Hawk
by shattered petal
Summary: I watch his hand brush over her arm, watch his feet point towards her, a sign of interest, a sign that he has chosen. His brilliant smile is all for her.


**author's note**: I guess this is a metaphorical piece, and I've written it in first person (Hitsugaya's POV) which is very rare. This oneshot is set quite a while after the Winter War, so Gin's death is referenced. Basically, a take on how Hitsugaya feels about the men Matsumoto dates every now and again.

* * *

**Title**: Hawk  
**Genre**: General  
**Rating**: K  
**Couple**: Implied HitsuMatsu

* * *

In their eyes, she is the shield and weapon, she is the protector and fire. In their eyes, I am the master, the fury, the pride. Yet nothing, _no one_, can fathom what ugly truth crawls behind the mask. Whatever pride I express has vanished once isolated from monsters and angels. I am reminded that I am human, I suffer human tendencies. While I sneer at the race, while I frown at their behaviour, I am still very much human; still very sane.

The hawk's gaze is sharp, it locks on its prey and prowls, soars, before darting through the sky, cutting through clouds and air, talons furious, like blades. Wings pointing, a robe, crown, screaming at its prey, wreaking havoc and chaos. _Fear_.  
Sometimes, I am a hawk, watching, studying, prepared to dive. _Wings heavy, patient, protective_. Blade heavy at my hips. Hyōrinmaru is _begging_ to be released; he can feel the pressure at my heart, and is desperate to unlock the heavy chains, set me free.

I stand; frozen.

Tall, smooth and good-looking. Groomed, angular face. Tanned flesh. Bright, blue eyes. Dark brown hair. Grinning, a large, fantastic grin, and women swoon at his feet. He is handsome, and he knows it. From where I am, I can _feel_ his confidence, feel his spiritual pressure hot against mine.  
The room gradually cools when his gaze locks onto my own. My prey, my victim. I watch his hand brush over her arm, watch his feet point towards her, a sign of interest, a sign that he has chosen. His brilliant smile is all for her.

Slowly, his eyes pry away from mine, almost as if he is struggling, as if I have captured him there. A sigh escapes his smiling lips, and he raises two fine brows at her, expecting. I know why he is here, I know every individual who enters my office. Today, I have been merciful, allowed this near stranger to approach her desk. She knows who he is, she has invited him, they have deliberately met.

And then I focus on her: eyes, smile, face, arms, shoulders. Subtle signs. She isn't as confident, I note, for her eyes fall from his, and she's trying to smile, trying to battle against his charms. My gaze drops to her arms, and she holds herself; I am familiar with that posture. Timidness, insecurity, uncertainty. _Thinking, what am I doing?_ I press a hand onto the desk, wait, watch. I know when to strike if need be, but I am patient and calm; I am waiting.

More lipstick than usual, I realise. Hair is more livelier too, and, in a split second, our eyes meet. I am able to identify a secret: he isn't a rebound, she intends for him to be serious, but she doubts that'll ever be the case. _Enough, enough men to distract herself from one man; she wants to start again_. Search another life, but there is not another life waiting for her. Only this one. And it shall wait for thousands of years until she realises.

She exhales slowly, averts her gaze from mine, and her confidence has returned. I have studied long enough, content that she will be fine, that he is not a waste. Sitting down into my seat, I grab my pen and continue working.  
Their footsteps are nearing my desk, and he escorts her out of the office for their anticipated date. Just before he closes the door, I raise my head to look at him. No words are exchanged, I don't need to do anything to deliver the message, to drill into his head that I am not just her commanding officer. I am not just a soldier, I am not just her Captain.

_I_ am her shield.  
No more monsters shall slash the mask.

The smooth smile has gone, and I know he is trying hard not to shiver. His body is freezing, I have made it so, a little warning. Then, a small smile reaches my lips and I nod my head at him once. Confirmation that he is free to leave. Free to pursue, free to dare.

_And the hawk waits for a return._


End file.
